Into Temptation
by x-HotMess
Summary: Lead me not. JONAS. Joe/Macy


**AN: This is my first fic in a while, so I'm sorry if I'm a little rusty. And I haven't actually watched that many episodes of of JONAS, so the characters probably won't align with the show, but I've always liked my Jonas's a little darker than what they're represented as. I hope you like it.**

The way he's looking at the water trickle down her back is definitely not safe. It's dripping off her dark hair, onto her tanned shoulders and catching the morning sunlight through the musty windows, making her twinkle as she takes a few elegant steps forward and catapults herself off the diving board, making a few flawless turns in the air before flawlessly sliding into the water with a soft _sploosh_.

It's not fair. It's not fair because he already has a gorgeous girlfriend, who does not deserve to have her boyfriend gawping at other girls in this manner. It's not fair because he spent years and years pining after Stella only to find that once he had what was once unattainable, he wasn't so sure he wanted it anymore. She was still bossy and scathingly critical and sometimes the way she acted around his brothers made him indignantly remind himself that although he was the only one who had seen her naked, he shouldn't be getting special treatment.

But he should. He should be treated like a boyfriend and not like a silly lapdog. Sure, this relationship was brand new ground for Stella as well, but instead of taking it one step at a time with him, she'd blown full steam ahead and made it perfectly clear that apart from the fact he was allowed to make out with her now, nothing was going to change. _Nothing_.

This wasn't how he thought it would be. He was thinking romantic dates and walking on the beach hand in hand and kisses in the moonlight. Instead Stella wouldn't go near him in public, in case it fuelled dating rumours.

"But, we are dating," he had shrugged.

"I don't want the whole world to know," she snapped.

He frowned, hurt. "What? Why not?"

She sighed, rubbing her temple in frustration. "You know I don't mean that in a bad way, Joe. I just don't want to be labelled as some celebrity girlfriend."

"But you're our stylist. It's not as if you don't hang around with me anyway. Who's going to notice the difference?" he protested.

"You of all people know the kind of rumours that come from nothing. I don't want to risk it and become the most hated girl in JONAS fanworld. I'm sorry, Joe, but this is non-negotiable."

Non-negotiable. Everytime she said that, it was the end of the matter. No more discussion. Why should there be? She had made it perfectly clear she was not going to change her mind, so who was he to try and argue with that?

He had thought of some good points to try and change her mind, but or course she didn't want to hear about disguises, back entrances, or the fact that her best friend was queen of the JONAS fanworld and didn't seem to mind them dating one bit. In fact, she was the total opposite, over the moon for the happy couple, like any true fan, or friend, would be.

He watches her graceful breaststroke as she kicks over the the side of the pool and pulls herself out of the water, lean muscle rippling as the clear liquid cascades off her body, trickling through her grooves and around her curves. A small hand wipes down her face, and from behind it, two clear brown eyes flutter open to meet his.

He manages a small smile and raises his hand in greeting. She cocks her head in bemusement and nods in agknowledgment, picking up her fluffy pink towel and making her way over to him.

"I didn't know rock stars woke up this early," shes murmurs good-humouredly.

"Babe, rock stars don't go to bed for at least another hour," he jokes in return.

Her lips widen into a smile, exposing her teeth, and she takes a seat next to him on the bleachers. "So what are you doing here instead of some hotshot rock star party?"

"Even rock stars need their physical exercise. Frontmen especially," he grins. "And the water helps me think."

"And what do rock stars need to think about in the water?" she's drying herself off and he's trying really, really hard not to notice the natural sheen of her smooth, caramel skin that he's aching to reach out and touch, just to see if it's as soft as it looks.

"Rock star stuff," he mutters, focusing hard on his left big toenail and not the slender legs that keep coming dangerously close to brushing against his and she rubs the pink towel up and down them.

She's picked up on his defensive tone and her eyes crease with concern. "Is there anything you want to talk about? Because, you know, I happen to be a very good listener."

"You don't want to hear about all my crap," he shrugs, although he's been dying to talk to an indifferent third party for the longest time.

A warmth crept around his shoulder and a soft voice blew against his ear. "Tell me. I do. I want to hear your crap."

He sighes and runs a hand through his hair, looking for something to distract him from her close proximity. "It's Stella."

"But of course," she nods knowingly. "Trouble in paradise?"

"You could say that," he grimaces. "It's just that... I've liked her for so long that I though when we finally got together she would, I dunno..."

"Complete you?" she says it so innocently but its like she's read his mind.

"Yeah," he sighs. "So why don't I feel completed?"

"Joe, I honestly have no idea. I hope you realise I barely even know you," she sighs, pushing her damp bangs off her forehead.

"What do you mean? You know everything about me, you're JONAS's number one super fan! What's my middle name?"

"Adam," she whispers, averting her gaze in slight embarrassment.

"See? When's my birthday? What kind of car do I have? What's my favourite flavour of icecream?" he pushes, eagerly leaning forward.

Her eyes lock back onto his and she's looking a little irritated. "So? That's not knowing you, that's knowing _about_ you. You're saying all that stuff defines who _you_ are? If I knew who you were, Joe, I'd understand why you feel the way you do and I'd know how to make it right. But I don't. I don't know you."

"Well I guess that makes us even, because I don't know you either." A flash of resentment crosses her face and he knows he's said the wrong thing .

"Yeah, because you've really made the effort to get to know me," she snarls sarcastically. "Have you ever felt to the need to?"

He opens his mouth to affirm, but catches himself before he lies. The hesitation is all the answer she needs.

"Don't act like you care so much about my feelings and opinions," she bites her lip and looks at the ground, her cheeks flushed pink.

"I'm really sorry, I didn't mean to upset you," he reaches out and puts a hand on her shoulder, starting slightly when he feels how cool her skin is. "And I would love to get to know you, really, I've just... I've never really thought about it."

"Glad to know I've made such an impact," she replies coldly, turning to leave.

"Don't go," his grip tightens and she shrugs his hand away, but she doesn't move any further. "I want to know you. I'm sorry."

"Sorry's just a word," she mumbles, her mouth tightening. "You think sorry will justify yourself? You think a doctor saying sorry and that they did everything they could will make my father come off an operating table alive? You think a drunk driver saying sorry will undo what he did to my family? No. I don't have time for apologies."

He's speechless for a few seconds, before managing a weak sentence. "I don't know what to say."

"You don't have to say anything," when she looks at him, he wonders how he could not have noticed such sadness in a person. "It's not your fault, really. You lead a busy life, what with school and your brothers and your band. I can't blame you for that. From the first note of the first JONAS song I ever heard, it was like you reached into my soul, grabbed my emotions and put them to a tune. I've never related to music so much in my life. And I love you and your brothers for that. For giving me something real that I could hold onto when I thought there was nothing."

"Oh, Macy," he sighes wrapping and arm around her shoulder and pulling her closer to him, breathing in her scent of cocoa butter and chlorine. She tenses at first, but gradually melts into his embrace, her arms intertwining around his waist and her head resting on his shoulder, spreading a wet patch over his shirt.

There's nothing but quiet, but there's a definite something that hangs unspoken in the air between them, something meaningful, something aching.

"Thank you for telling me. I didn't know," he says, just to fill the void.

She simply nods, her forehead pressed to the side of his neck, and it's as if the skin against skin had triggered a reaction in the pit of his stomach, sending sparks along his nerves, flying upwards to his head and along his arms and legs. He starts to feel dizzy and he doesn't know why, and he has to say something, anything, they can't just leave it at this.

"Tell me something else about you," he whispers into her sticky, chlorinated hair.

"What do you want to know?" her breath tingles across his collarbone and he doesn't know how she does it but the sparks have started up again.

"Everything," he breathes.

Her head lifts off his shoulder and it feels empty, and she pulls away from his body and he doesn't like the feeling of being unconnected to her. Before he knows what his doing his face is moving towards her and his head is screaming _nononono_ but every other part of his body says _yes_. She realises what he's doing and for some reason, the same reason as him, she leans in.

Their lips meet and he knows on the surface he really shouldn't be doing this, but deep down it's amazing and wonderful and so, so right that he never wants to stop. But suddenly she gasps and pushes off his chest, but the taste of her is still lingering on his lips and he doesn't want to open his eyes because he's afraid of what he's going to see. But eventually he flickers them open and she simply looks torn.

"Why did you do that?" she hisses, tears welling up behind her beautiful chocolate eyes and he hates to be the cause of them.

"Don't tell me you didn't feel it too," he leans in further towards her, but she scrambles away from him.

"No, no, I don't know what... I can't, Joe, I can't," her tone is pleading with him to stop but he doesn't think he can.

"Why not?"

One word stops him in his tracks. "Stella."

"Oh, no," he freezes before burying his head in his hands.

"She's my friend, Joe, and she loves you," the guilt in her voice is only a fraction of what he should be feeling. But the euphoria of kissing her has overtaken all of his senses and all he can think about is how much he wants to do it again.

"But what if I don't love her?" the words tumble out before he can stop them.

Her hand comes from nowhere and before he knows it the side of his face is stinging. "Don't say that. Don't you dare say that. You have to try harder."

"But I didn't have try at all to feel that with you just now," he can't just skirt around the issue like she wants him to.

"It was nothing," she mumbles unconvincingly.

"You know that's not true," he reaches in and caresses her cheek with his thumb. She sighes softly in pleasure, before pushing his hand away, standing sadly and gathering her things.

"It has to be," she's refusing to meet his eyes but he can't stop looking at her.

"Why?" he stands too, trying to think of every excuse for her to stay with him.

"Because we can't be together. Not like this," she slings her back pack over her shoulder and starts to walk along the side of the pool.

"Then... god, tell me what to do! I can't just let you leave us at the edge of this cliff," he's followed her to the swinging doors and her fingers reach out and touch the wood but she's not pushing through them just yet.

"Okay, here's what you do," she spins around to face him for one last time. "You tell Stella how you feel, work it out, and one day you're going to be so in love with her it won't even compare to that kiss. You need to forget about it. You need to forget about me."

"I don't want to forget! I don't want to wait for one day with Stella when I have it with you right now!"

"Sometimes we all do things we don't want to do because we know it's for the best."

"How do you know it's for the best? How do you know you're not ruining what could be the greatest thing in your life?" he doesn't understand her logic, he's not comprehending anything except the sun on her hair and the tear on her cheek, he knows he's not the only one who wants this.

"I don't," she sighs. "But I also don't want to be put in the position where I could potentially hurt my best friend or break up my favourite band."

He's run out of convincing things to say. "We could be something great."

"No, Joe we can't. This, what ever this is, is all we'll ever be. I'm sorry."

"Macy!"

He stands there, breathing heavily, desperately thinking of what would happen if he could stop her from walking away.

"Goodbye, Joe." and then she's backed out of the door and she's gone.


End file.
